


Exhausted Storms

by Shatterpath



Series: Sassy, Snarky, and Sexy [5]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Comrades in Arms, Epic, F/M, Fatherhood, Feels, Female Protagonist, Marriage, Morse Code, Motherhood, Newborn Children, Peggy's tornado story, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-06 06:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 14,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4211469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reality of the coming baby really sinks in and the inevitable changes begin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RainbowRiddler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowRiddler/gifts).



> This part of the tale centers around Peggy and the baby and how the others revolved around that. There are lots of feels and angst and sweetness here, a new OC to hopefully enjoy and the Jarvises! Hooray! And a special thanks to RainbowRiddler for all her help, you rock!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy.

Suddenly, at the tail end of July, there was no hiding Peggy's status. It was nearly an overnight thing, odd aches and pains, food cravings, slight weight gain and the tickles of movement deep in her guts translating to a bulge that baggy trousers could no longer obfuscate. 

Frankly, Peggy was terrified.

Perhaps the reality of the little life she now carried had never really sunk all the way into her stubborn head and heart. Maybe it was the reality of having her very existence hijacked for a time. Maybe it was the constant niggling worry over those that would come after her child should the truth be known. In reality all of that and a million other thoughts and fears and ecstasies and confusions and happinesses whirled in her mind and heart like the childhood fiction of the tornado story that delighted the other Howling Commandos so.

Only later would Peggy realize that, bizarrely, it was once again Janet Loraine that helped out by quietly getting things moving. Betsy made sure she ate regularly and buckets of sawdust and a portable toilet were discretely delivered, along with water and soap to scrub up with. And, three days later, Peggy nearly jumped clean out of her skin when a familiar, tall figure framed himself in her doorway.

"Hey Doll," Steve greeted her quietly and for the first time, there was no joyful rush to greet one another. In that heavy pause, the start of goodbye was conjured to reality and they both felt it as keenly as a knife blade.

"Darling."

Only when she turned in her seat did Steve move, flinching at the blatant change to her, dropping his eyes before creeping over and going to his knees to lean into her warmth. "'M sorry."

Then it was Peggy's turn to flinch, their mixed feelings about this coming child given breath in the quiet. Feeling that discomfited twitch, Steve rose up fully onto his knees and pulled her in for a full-bodied hug. 

"I'll never regret loving you, marrying you, can't regret this kid, but I do regret taking you away from your task, and your home. That I'll always be sorry for, Peggy."

It was exactly what she needed to hear and a small sob rose up unbidden to be pressed against his throat for safekeeping.

Later, she woke from a nap, bereft at once more finding herself alone in her cot. In lieu of words she could not force past the ache in her throat, she'd traced more Morse Code against his skin earlier, willing the silent letters to sink deep, to keep him safe, remind him how she adored him, bring him home to her side once again. Then a rustle of sound caught her ear, bringing a smile to her face. A piece of paper being rustled, a page in a book flipped over, or his sketchbook perhaps? Yes, there it was, the scratch of graphite against the tooth of the paper, leaving behind dark marks that would become a picture.

Despite wanting to remain sprawled out in warm relaxation, the bulge of growing child was making that uncomfortable and Peggy gathered herself to shift lazily to her side, still leaving her heavy eyes closed. Sure enough, with a rustle of cloth and the squeak of her badly repaired steel chair, Steve was beside her, hand and lips gentle on her skin. That hand wandered, making her subdue a giggle at the tickle reflex that had suddenly appeared with the second trimester, her sensitivities altering in unfathomable ways. Though she had no complaints at the new levels of sensitivities when Steve worshipped at her body, the noises that would escape her were deliciously embarrassing.

"As much as I know it's stupid and probably not safe," he murmured between feathery kisses and caresses, "I hope you'll forgive me this."

Curious now, Peggy opened her eyes, drank in his face, took the notebook he offered silently. It was so strange to see her sleeping self drawn in his steady hand, stranger still to see herself completely relaxed, an ease to her so rare in her waking hours.

She feared it would be a very long time before she would be so relaxed once more.


	2. Chapter 2

With Howard's arrival in the wee hours of morning, their time had nearly run out. Steve vanished for a few hours to see to their friend and the goodies he'd doubtlessly brought in as the cover for his visit.

"He's dumped some interesting new toys on us," Steve explained as he rejoined Peggy in her tent even as the camp stirred to life around them. "Can't say I'm sorry about that. Not worth it to exchange it for you, but I'll take what I can get."

"Flattery, darling."

"You deserve it."

"Well, I must say, you are getting better at this talking to women skill."

"Only matters that I can talk to you, Doll."

"Oh do shut up and kiss me."

Steve was halfway to joining her beneath the sheets when an all too familiar voice chimed up. "Knock, knock, lovebirds. You decent?"

Groaning, Steve plunked his head down onto Peggy's breasts for a moment before they shared an exasperated look. 

"Would it matter if we weren't?"

"Well..."

Doing up his trousers, Steve peeked through the tent flap before yanking it open and grabbing Howard's shirt to haul him inside. "Jeez, Steve don't take a guy's head off! Oh, you really weren't decent. Hey, sorry about that."

Peggy was greatly amused that Howard took one glance at her and-- even covered in a sheet and light blanket-- he couldn't hold her eyes. Then the couple saw just how exhausted he was, swaying on his feet like a small child run himself ragged.

"Hey, siddown, willya?"

"Thanks, ace, both of ya. I only came here so I could beg for some crash space. Phillips'll keep me talking about the stuff I brought, and I'd normally love to brag, but damn that's a long flight."

"And the guys'll do the same," Steve commiserated, pushing Howard onto the creaky chair where the smaller man cradled his head in his hands. Ruffling the dark hair affectionately, Steve went to the cot and held up the sheet so that Peggy could dress with some modesty.

"Aww, no show?"

The attempt as leering didn't quite fly, weak and forced as it was and when a dressed Peggy went to him with an unexpected embrace, he leaned into it like a lost little boy. "We'll have plenty of time to talk."

Nodding silently, he took solace in his old friend while Steve pulled off his boots and socks to set them aside. Then the couple stood him up and stripped him of tie, cufflinks and suspenders before pouring him into the cot to pass out for a good, long time.

"It worries me that he didn't make a single lewd comment for all of that."

"Yeah, I agree. Hopefully he'll come clean since it seems like he needs it."


	3. Chapter 3

As much as Peggy wanted to keep Steve to herself, soak up every minute to keep her sane through what could only be a long separation, she knew he needed to be out there for the soldiery to see. So she kissed him goodbye, her mouth long free of her signature color, and fixed his tie before sending him off with a wave. The bizarre, movie-quality domesticity of it all was jarring.

Later, the raised-eyebrow curiosity from Janet was amusing as she spotted the lean figure of a man who was very distinctly not her husband sacked out in Peggy's bed, dead to the world. 

"My pilot," Peggy smiled sadly and the younger woman nodded and set down the lunch tray before turning to leave. "Thank you, Janet, for everything."

The quiet words made her pause at the entrance to the tent, look back over her shoulder with a faintly conflicted expression.

"I think I'm gonna miss you, Carter."

And with that, she was gone, leaving Peggy to smile wistfully and whisper, "strangely, I think I'll miss you too."

Lost in paperwork she was trying to get straightened up before being shipping out, Peggy took a moment to acknowledge the groan of wakefulness behind her. Turning, she watched Howard stir to life, blinking blearily.

"Jeez, feel like hit by train..."

Peggy didn't correct his sloppy speech, just turned in her chair to watch him wearily sit up and rake fingers through his wrecked hair. When he looked up with a tired smile, she watched his eyes flicker from her face to her swelling midriff and back to her face, smile faltering for a moment.

"It has become rather obvious, yes. Thank you for coming for me, Howard. I'm not sure there's anyone else Steve and I would trust with this task."

Her voice sounded wooden even to her own ears, the panic of the imminent situation far too close now. It was a bit of a surprise when he stood and stepped over to wrap his arms around her head and shoulders, just as she had done for him earlier.

"I don't know that I can cry quite yet," Peggy whispered against his chest, her composure rattled. "If I start, I fear I'll never stop."

For another moment, Howard held her, before deliberately leaning her back to gently chuck a fist under her chin. "Stiff upper lip and all that shit."

The watery smiles they shared were anything but happy.

Steve showed up then, echoing the sad smiles and wrapping Howard up in a suffocating hug that the smaller man both squirmed at and drank up like some sort of salvation. "I've missed ya, buddy. How's things stateside?"

The friends tried to act normal, as though this were just a social visit after a long time apart. The men chatted about the planeload of gear and supplies that Peggy hadn't seen any of, and for a short time, they were just a couple of young men from New York with their jagged edges rubbed off with time and experience. But it didn't take too long for Steve to hug Howard again and speak with a thick, somber voice.

"It really is good to see you, Howard, but think I can get a few hours with my wife?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course! Just... y'know."

"Yeah, I know. See you at dusk. Thanks."


	4. Chapter 4

Peggy had promised herself she wouldn't weep, but she hadn't counted on the wet pooling in Steve's eyes. Those beautiful, summer-sky eyes; the one thing that had not changed on him, the blue that would haunt her in all the best and worst ways.

It didn't take more than a nudge to get Peggy to stand so he could steal her seat and pull her into the haven of his powerful body.

There were no words that could make their imminent separation any easier, so they simply held one another until Betsy delivered sandwiches and juice, gave Peggy a hard hug that almost cracked the younger woman's composure and simply said, "soon, sweet girl," before whisking away. A leisurely sponge bath and some sweet lovemaking had both of them choked up, a sense of panic and inevitability like a weight pressing the air out of their lungs. Peggy finally sobbed brokenly as Steve nuzzled down her belly, kissing the bump of the child they'd created between them.

"Stay safe," he murmured hoarsely. "Both of you. And I'll do my damnest to get back to you as soon as I can."

As they had undressed one another, they reversed the process, solemn and quietly tearful, with many caresses and kisses. Steve carefully knotted and then snugged up Peggy's tie, just as she had done with him, earned watery laughs, a welcome respite however brief. Then it was the last few things packed into the battered military trunk, her name nearly worn away from its wood and steel surface, lock left behind on her desk for some other soldier to use, Steve handing off her warm-weather gear and effortlessly hoisting the trunk and a box of miscellaneous other things.

The evening sky was warm and rich with color, fading quickly to night, and they were running late. Phillips himself was waiting for them, the Jeep roaring to life and spitting dust as it zipped through camp towards the airfield that had once been someone's pasture. The silver skin of the Lockheed 12 Electra Junior with its tail marked as Stark Industries property was already set up for takeoff, propellers whirling to prepare the engines for the ordeal of what lay ahead.

"Take care of yourself, kid," Phillips raised his voice over the noise as he pulled up alongside the plane's tail. "Roger Dooley is expecting you in New York in about a week. Give 'em hell back home for us."

It was all crashing down now, the sharp reality of what was happening, no more delays or denial. Wordless, Peggy could only give his arm a squeeze before she was drawn away by a stone-faced Steve. Far enough away not to intrude, Peggy saw the familiar shapes of the Howling Commandos lined up in the fading dusk, Betsy and Janet tacked onto the end.

When they saluted, she wanted nothing more than to run to them, to the safety of home and family they had provided without her even consciously noticing.

The vibration of the plane against her back was like a hungry predator and panic clawed at her throat. Steve handed off the trunk and box to Howard and grabbed her in a hug that made her bones ache, a welcome near-pain.

"I don't think I can do this, Steve!" She sobbed brokenly and he pressed desperate kisses to her temples, eyes, mouth. His smile was pure sadness and adoration to match the caress of his hand over her cheek and jaw.

"Yes, you can. You are the strongest person I know. I don't think I could do all... this, if it hadn't been for your example. How to balance calm with rage, duty with love, need and sacrifice."

Peggy had no memory of weeping so openly before, echoed in the tears on Steve's own cheeks. Broken and yet as strong as ever, she felt Steve lift her to the edge of the oval entry door-- the steps already pulled in-- where she crouched and caressed his handsome face.

"You have to stay here and take my place in this land," Peggy spoke hoarsely against his lips. "And I will take your place on your home soil. I love you so much."

"I'm always going to love you, Peggy Carter, no matter what. You and that kid and being married to you."

Taking the hand he put the ill-fitting ring on those weeks ago, Steve pressed a last, longing kiss to the promise knotted in nylon string, feeling her do the same to the hand he caressed her beautiful face with.

"No matter what," she echoed, broken but strong and like the shattering edge of a glacier, they forced themselves apart, Steve backing away so the tail could clear him, Peggy shakily closing the heavy door and locking down the heavy handle within with a decisive clunk. Collapsing into one of the plush chairs, she strapped in as the plane began to move, bumping over the rough terrain while she tried not to choke on her misery.

Steve knelt on the dry earth, fists against his mouth to stifle his sobs and wanting nothing more than to fly after the vanishing silvery plane carrying those he loved most in the world.


	5. Chapter 5

Aching with loss, Peggy nonetheless felt the most peculiar sensation of the air itself pressing down on her from all sides, her ears objecting to the pressure of it. Once in the night sky, Howard set a punishing ascent angle, the Electra Junior shaking with the effort. Soon, even misery couldn't muffle her internal alarm and she twisted in her backwards-facing seat to call out over the muffled racket. "Howard, how high are you planning on going?"

"About thirty thousand feet. Don't worry about it, we're pressurized now." Which explained the squeezing sensation and Peggy was curious despite herself. "I've done some modifications for transatlantic flight, better engines, better fuel, you'll notice the interior's been redone to accommodate a couple extra tanks to bump up how far we can go."

"It must have been a lot of trouble."

"I like this plane."

Despite what must be heavy-duty insulation, Peggy felt the chill and shrugged into her winter coat, pausing over the sudden assault on her sense of smell. The dirt of camp, the scents of her body and Steve's pressed into... into the blanket and sheet suddenly fallen open in her lap. In the clean atmosphere of the plane's cabin, there was no missing the stink of it. Choking on a sob, she buried her face into the scratchy, dirty mess and breathed it in.

It wasn't until Howard somehow twisted around in his seat to smack her in the arm none to gently with the heavy face mask did she even realize he'd been trying to get her attention. Woodenly putting it on--years of practice with gas masks of all sorts made the task rote-- and the bracing hit of oxygen-rich air swamped over her, pushing away some of the choking stress and the pain in her head. It wasn't much, but she would take what she could get.

Finally, after a good, solid hour, the L-12 leveled off and the noise dropped off considerably.

"I nearly made you a pressure suit," Howard commented and she heard the clink of his body straps falling away and did the same so that she could stand and stretch. "But I figured you wouldn't go for it, so I sealed up the cabin instead, but it's not completely a success quite yet. Since you're breathing for two now, I wanted to make sure you got enough air. I read up."

"Thank you, Howard," she told him sincerely, leaning into the cramped pilot space to rub her temple against his dark hair in lieu of any other affection. "Did you really say that we're at thirty thousand feet?"

"Yeah, I wanted a peaceful trip home and not much flies this high."

The strained normalcy between them felt odd, but Peggy couldn't rightly sob all over the poor man, no matter how heart and hormones were making her shake. No matter the emotional upheavals of the day, nature prevailed and Peggy was forced to use the claustrophobic little loo in the back of the plane, to nibble at the C-rations packed for her and Howard, to doze off and dream painful dreams. The steep landing to the Azores was a welcome change, Peggy sitting in the co-pilot seat for both a better view and to assist should she be needed. With the screaming rainstorm buffeting the island, she nearly did and Howard rubbed his face and groaned tiredly once the L-12 rolled to a stop at the fuel island.

"I've got it," Peggy assured him and went out to harangue the fuel monkeys to draw from the tank marked with the Stark Industries logo and not the normal tanks. They tried to play stupid but Peggy was in no mood for games and the damn corporate logo was on the tail fins and they obeyed with surly murmurs. Peggy almost wanted them to try something, to give her an outlet for stress and boredom, but she behaved herself and merely watched them like a hawk, overheating but dry in her winter gear.

When a seemingly innocuous-looking black car pulled up, Peggy's instincts went on alert, but a hard look from Howard stopped her. Two silent men got out to retrieve a single crate from the plane while Howard went to speak with the occupants of the car. "Just a good will gift," he explained with forced cheer, returning to her side. "Y'know, to make sure no one messed with the fuel tank."

Peggy decided to ignore the blatant lie to save her sanity.


	6. Chapter 6

With the storm still loud and violent, it only made sense to hunker down for a bit and wait it out. So Howard taxied the plane over to a shack that provided a bit of shelter from the wind and the locals lashed the wings to the deck to stabilize the Electra Junior. It was bizarrely quiet in the confines of the passenger cabin, despite the lightning and lashing rain against the thick windows. Peggy was twitchy with inactivity and feeling trapped in a potentially dangerous position in addition to desperately not wanting to wallow in her personal pains, but there was little she could do.

"You holdin' up, pal?"

Convinced he'd fallen asleep across the seats opposite her, Peggy jumped at Howard's soft question.

"Feeling a bit... trapped, I suppose. Sleep for a bit, I'll be all right."

For several hours the storm howled and carried on while Peggy's memories shook her as the wind did the plane. Snatches of childhood, of the bombs pulverizing London, the feel of paperwork against her fingers and the smell of gunpowder in the air. Intertwined with all of it was the thread of Steve and the others she'd been forced to leave behind. Rubbing at the bulge of her abdomen, she could only pray all of this would be worth it.

Abruptly, the plane made a suddenly electronic squealing noise and Howard jerked away with a suddenness that startled Peggy. Rolling to unsteady feet, he looked at her with wild eyes. "We gotta go. Get those chains! Watch your back!"

Recognizing now was not the time for questions, Peggy dove at her trunk and grabbed her Walther PPK to shove it in a jacket pocket before scrambling out into the violent weather. Surely Howard was mad to untether in this maelstrom! Yet, his alarm had been real and it stilled her doubts as she ran to the first chain, quickly releasing the ratchet and yanking the heavy hook out of the wing's recessed eyebolt. Ducking under the plane's belly, she heard a cough and shriek of metal as the twin propellers began to spin.

The hook was still in place at the end of the slack chain when the first flash of movement alerted Peggy's instincts. Splitting her attention, she snapped at the chain in hopes of the hook jerking loose above her head, while the snub-nosed pistol was drawn. The first assailant fell like a tree from a hard pistol-whip, the second when she lashed the suddenly loose chain at him, head snapping back with a spray of blood. Awash with adrenaline and warrior glee, Peggy fled back under the Electra Junior's belly, grabbing a protruding bit to fling her body around and aim herself down the cabin exterior and the electric light pouring though the open door.

The plane was moving now, her engines a rising roar in the storm that was suddenly beginning to dissipate into watery morning light. Peggy didn't hesitate for a moment to shoot at the menacing figures racing towards the plane, satisfied when they fell back and hoping the muffled crack of gunfire meant their aim was terrible. Grabbing the edge of the door, she bodily hauled herself half in, startling when a hand grabbed her pant leg and she was forced to twist to one hip and kick the bastard dead in the face.

"Go, Howard! Go!"

Getting into a crouch, Peggy unloaded the pistol back the way they'd come to discourage the assailants while the engines revved up to an urgent wail and the plane began to race for the salvation of the open runway. Satisfied they were away from the men on foot, Peggy finally slammed the heavy door and it's big handle into place before throwing herself into the nearest seat and fumbling with the belt.

"Strapped in?" Howard yelled.

"Yes! Go!"

The violent angle of the takeoff and the rough push from the wind that nearly sent them into the ocean was an experience Peggy would never forget. Only as the island fell away did she begin to relax from the unexpected adventure.

"Well done there."

"Hey, when you make as many dramatic exits as I do, you get a feel for these things."


	7. Chapter 7

Coming awake with a start, Peggy looked around sharply to get her bearings and was relieved that nothing seemed to be amiss. She didn't even remember grabbing her mask, or the blanket she huddled under, or strapping two different seatbelts awkwardly around her torso so that she could lay flat.

"What's buzzin', cousin?" With his voice strained around a stretch, Howard grinned wearily, the expression not reaching his eyes. "Think you could keep an eye out on the controls for a bit so I can stretch my legs and eat something?"

"Certainly, just let me use the toilet before I burst!"

Honestly, Peggy was shocked the Bean let her sleep as long as she clearly had by how stiff and groggy she felt. That business done and with a splash of cold water from the tiny sink to wake up her eyes, Peggy grabbed some of the awful cheese and crackers to eat and went to the co-pilot seat.

"Thanks. I don't like to step away, despite there being an autopilot. Call me old-fashioned."

"Not a word I would generally use for you, Howard. Feel free to lie out for a bit as there doesn't seem to be anything more exciting than sunlight glinting off the wings. Perhaps later you can give me a few lessons on flying."

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks, Pegs."

Despite her none to private agony, Peggy was pleased by the press of his nose and cheek to her crown before he wandered off. Not willing to let herself get overly distracted, Peggy left off reading or other such activity, merely tucking crackers and cheese beneath her mask and chewing slowly. The Atlantic was a distant glint of blue and silver, the clouds scattered like lazy sheep below. The day made her think of Papa and his endless silly stories to couch learning into something she adored, of Mother and her serious mien, steely-eyed and no nonsense to a harsh world and whose touch was pure gentle adoration upon her daughter's dark curls. Of her silly, starry-eyed brother she still held a small candle of hope in finding one day. The lazy cloud sheep made her think of the Howling Commandos and how they loved her stories, accepted her without question, expected great things from her as though they never doubted she could do any damn thing she put her mind to.

That she would miss almost as much as Steve.

Once again stroking the Bean though the layers of clothing and blanket, Peggy let herself miss her lover and husband, that marvelous, foolish boy she'd so completely lost her heart to. Not the praying sort, she found herself silently pleading with the vastness of the universe for his safety so that one day he could return to his wife and child.

And she wondered if the tears would ever stop.

Eventually Howard grew restless and returned to his seat, carefully ignoring Peggy's bloodshot eyes and how she would periodically rub at them, emotionally exhausted to her bones and leaking around the edges. They wasted hours talking about the controls, the engines, the conversion to a pressurized cabin, leaky and chilly as it was. Then the smudge of North America rose up to change the endless blue and Peggy felt a stirring of excitement, despite herself. It had been a long time.

"Howard, that most definitely does not look like New York."

"That's 'cause this isn't New York, it's Newfoundland. Good thing too, 'cause we're runnin' on fumes. This stop is less likely to be exciting at least. Got all your papers?"

She'd been so lost in her own pains that something had eluded Peggy until that moment. Howard Stark had flown back and forth across the Atlantic in a plane on 36 feet long that he'd gone to great lengths to modify and set up fueling stations for.

"You did all this for me?"

The question came out shaky and watery and more emotional then she was used to showing, but Howard only smiled, the expression hidden behind his mask, but crinkling the corners of his eyes. 

"Hey, you're worth it, Pegs."


	8. Chapter 8

It was a far more peaceful landing than at the stormy Azores, the heavy forests around the runway as pleasant a change as the Union Jack snapping atop it's pole with a smaller American flag below to designate the presence of that military on the island. Helping land the plane was a thrill of its own, feeling the impact of rubber to runway and sharing a grin with Howard. For a time, she was able to be more than the pain heavy on her soul and that was a gift in itself.

Friendly faces, a hot meal and a warm shower with real plumbing was a small blessing she took to heart, returning to the Electra Junior in decent spirits.

"Looks like they winged us," Howard cackled like a madman where he was welding a patch on the right wing not far from where Peggy had fired from that morning. 

"I'm quite happy that the ruffians missed. I'd rather not have a repeat of being shot, thank you very much."

"Well no one can claim you came off the front lines for anything but a damn good reason, Carter!"

The two strangers helping her eccentric friend looked at Peggy curiously, eyes dipping down her voluptuous form to get stuck at the baby bump grown obvious on her. Then the eyes ducked away and Peggy was struck that this was how things were to be for the foreseeable future. 

"This is going to be very... disconcerting, Howard."

"You've been hidin'... that," he gestured vaguely in the direction of her middle, "for a long time, Pegs. And you can adapt to anything, I never doubt ya. There, that'll get us home. Thanks, guys, I appreciate the help."

Evening was only just catching up to them now and the summer skies put on a glorious show as they flew southwest and at a much lower altitude than before. Peggy looked out over the ragged coastline until it grew too dark to see and marveled at the constellations of electric lights that grew as they approached their final destination. Now certainly she had been to New York before on SSR business, not the least of which had been Project Rebirth, but she had never flown in beneath a night sky. She could only gawk, pressed to the window like a small child to openly admire. The city was magnificent, there was just no other word for it. Like over-bright constellations in the darkest of night skies, New York blazed in all her glory, a gleaming, bold symbol of brave freedom in the night. For years, London had been forced to lay cowering in the dark, but not so this place, the black water breaking up the shapes of light into recognizable shorelines her mind automatically matched up to her memories.

In those scattered, gleaming diamonds of blazing, glorious electric light, New York welcomed her new daughter home with open arms. Peggy held no shame in the tears cool on her skin, basking in the bright welcome and aching from the missing presence of her husband, who should have been with her in this monumental moment.

With some delicate negotiations with the tower at Teterboro Airport in New Jersey, still in control of the US Military for war purposes, the plane swooped down to land. It looked somehow smaller in the darkness, no matter the bright lights, and Peggy could see that there were several massive military planes standing by in the pools of light and shadow.

"The brass has been nice enough to let me keep my toys here," Howard commented as he taxied the plane to a large hanger that stood open with a car waiting for them at the great door. There was some sort of enormous flying wing inside, along with several fancy cars, the Electra Junior winding to a halt among them. Only then did Howard truly relax, slumping back into his seat like a broken toy for a long moment before springing up with childish energy. "C'mon, let's get the hell off this plane!"

"I couldn't agree with you more!"


	9. Chapter 9

"Good to see you well, Mister Stark," came an unexpectedly plummy voice, rich with the tones of her homeland. It matched the tall, slender man at the plane's door, snappily dressed in a three-piece suit in a fine grey wool.

"Thanks, Jarvis."

The tall man's gaze, faintly startled to see the stranger at Howard's back, took her in with a sharp glance, eyes widening at gut-level, just as everyone they met seemed to. The faintly alarmed look on his face when his gaze skittered to Howard and back to her made Peggy lash out and punch her friend in the shoulder hard enough to knock him off the last step and into the taller man.

"Hey!"

"Not his, the letch," Peggy growled. "I'm quite happily married to the child's father, thank you very much."

From pouting to sheepish in an instant, Howard rubbed his shoulder and lamely gestured from one to the other. "Peggy Carter, Edwin Jarvis."

That made Jarvis' eyes widen for an entirely different reason, recalling all of the adulations Stark had heaped upon the woman's name over the years.

"A pleasure, Missus Carter. Have you any luggage that I might retrieve?"

Disconcerted by the change in title, having had no one say it out loud before, Peggy gestured back to the plane. "There's a rather battered military trunk and an open box, thank you."

Not doing some things for herself for the sake of the child she carried was something else for Peggy to get used to.

Having given up control for now, Peggy slumped over to the waiting car to half collapse into the back. She didn't move from her exhausted pose of head in hands even when the men joined her in the car and it started up to smoothly move away from the hangar. 

"Just a bit more, Pegs."

"Thank you, Howard. A decent cup of tea or even coffee, something to eat aside from dry military rations, a shower and a bed will set me to rights. As much as anything will."

"We can accommodate those needs," Edwin Jarvis said unexpectedly and Peggy raised her head to eye the rearview mirror, but could not see his face.

"Thank you, Mister Jarvis. That would be lovely."

It was an understatement, but he seemed to know what she meant beneath the words.

Like a forest of lit Christmas trees, New York blazed all the more brightly then ever in the dark of deep night, the water below the George Washington Bridge a black gap dotted with rippling stars of light. Peggy was aware of the car turning north before she mostly dozed off, waking with a start as Howard's shoulder shifted with the car stopping and shutting down. Bleary as any drowsy child, she followed the men and her familiar things to a well-appointed room already prepped for habitation. But the desire to pour herself into sleep was offset by a growling stomach harsh and acidy and the stink of travel clinging to her like a second skin.

"A small meal will be ready in a few minutes," Jarvis said differentially and ducked out of the room to leave her alone.

And there, amid the luxurious trappings, the warm, comfortable-looking bed, her own bathroom and a hot, fresh meal on the way... Peggy had never felt so miserable and alone.


	10. Chapter 10

Edwin Jarvis hardly knew what to make of this strange new situation. And he had found himself in many a strange situation in Howard Stark's employ.

The brittle, wounded woman he had met so briefly at the airport hardly seemed the decorated war hero the man waxed on about, but who was he to judge? A subtle change in the immediate environment alerted him a change and he jumped like a startled cat and dropped the spatula.

"Goodness!"

Certainly he was no warrior, despite his past military service, but how had she gotten so close? And so soundlessly? For a long moment, the dark-eyed stranger merely watched him with cool, calculating curiosity before offering a quiet apology.

"So sorry, Mister Jarvis. That does smell delicious."

Quickly retrieving his spatula, he gave it a quick rinse and returned to the simmering eggs. "Not knowing your preferences, I kept to simple fare. Please, sit."

Something about her brittleness gentled his voice and she nodded silently and did as he bid. The blank stare at the plate set before her gentled him further.

"Merely scrambled eggs with a touch of salt and a bit of country wheat bread. My wife, Anna, is an excellent baker."

"These are real eggs?"

And there it was, the deprivations of war in a single sentence. This stranger, a war hero and pregnant enough to show, marveling at real eggs on the plate before her.

"Indeed ma'am. We've a whole small flock for eggs and meat, and while the roster is a noisy fellow, he has his uses."

And Peggy Carter finally smiled, unconsciously reassuring Edwin that things would get better for her, and attacked the plate with real gusto. He had the uncomfortable feeling, had she been alone, there may have been obscene noises involved. When he set down a small glass of honest, fresh milk, she stared at him.

"You'll find, Missus, that things are not quite so bad here. At least not when it comes to eating."

Anna was certain to be outraged at his giving up a cup of her carefully hoarded dairy, but she would understand why he did it.

With a bit of good, healthy food in her, his new ward looked to barely be able to hold herself upright, dark eyes shot with red, dusky skin growing pale with fatigue and god knows what sorts of mental shocks given by a war zone. Without prompting, she swayed to her feet and toddled out, but paused in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Thank you, Mister Jarvis."

"You're quite welcome. Feel free to sleep yourself out now. When you wake, we'll get you settled in properly."

And with a nod, she was gone once more.


	11. Chapter 11

The now all too familiar need to pee drove Peggy from her warm bed to take care of that before slipping into her thick housecoat and even thicker slippers to toddle out into the house.

"Good morning, _Liebe_ ," Anna sing-songed in her thick German accent as she pulled a sheet pan of cookies from the oven. "You look like you slept well!"

The pat to her heavy belly was something that irked Peggy from strangers, but was used to it from Anna. The older woman had been a heaven-sent blessing these last four months cooped up in Howard's fancy house in Riverdale while the Bean grew and grew and grew.

"It seems all I do is eat and sleep any longer," Peggy groused as she settled into what had become her seat at the cozy table and tried to squirm into a position that put the least amount of pressure on her taxed body. The baby was no small burden and she was secretly panicking at what was certain to be a challenging delivery. But she had Howard and all of his toys, the Jarvises who doted on her and an excellent midwife, a pragmatic and no nonsense woman named Regina Ross. Peggy had instantly disliked the first doctor Howard had brought eagerly to her and punched the second after telling him to go into a different line of work, the pig. Thankfully, Anna had taken over then, tracking down several competent, calm midwives for Peggy to speak with until she found Regina, who Peggy took an instant liking to. And who, with her uncanny instincts, ought to be arriving any minute now. 

Instead, the distant knock on the door heralded a different voice, one that startled Peggy a bit. Men's murmured voices materialized into Edwin with Chief Dooley in tow.

"Thanks, Edwin, I appreciate that. Good morning Mrs. Jarvis, Agent Carter."

They returned the greeting and Anna insisted that he sit and join them in some coffee at the very least. It didn't matter to her that he was only there on business, she took acting as hostess seriously and Roger Dooley was not going to turn down good coffee. After some polite pleasantries, the Jarvises retreated, leaving behind the coffee pot, a mild tea for Peggy and a small selection of pastries with the fresh cookies.

"That woman should open a restaurant, I swear."

He had proven to be an enigma to Peggy, an odd mix of rough man and hard-eyed professional with a fatherly edge that was equally drawn to and repulsed by the pregnancy so obvious on her. Their first meeting had been a fireworks show of strong personalities, his adamant refusal to deal with her and her equally adamant refusal to be pushed aside. In the end, after much growling and sharp words, they had come to a reasonable compromise. Peggy couldn't touch fieldwork, even her stubborn self couldn't deny that, but he couldn't ignore that her code breaking skills were unparalleled. After those early few weeks, the Bean had made commuting difficult and Dooley had taken it upon himself to stop in the Stark estate once or twice a week to bring her files and hang out while she went over them. He trusted no one with the invaluable papers. 

"So... how you holdin' up?"

Pausing in her pouring over the documents, Peggy eyed Dooly oddly, as if he too were a puzzle to decipher. The friendly inquiry was not a normal part of these meetings.

"Understandably exhausted, but happy to be useful."

Both remembered how they had clashed early on and shared a smirk between them. As if in response, the Bean exploded into a flurry of activity, making Peggy groan. 

"And this cannot be over soon enough."

"Yeah, my boy was tough on his mother too. Hang in there, kid."

"Thank you, Chief."


	12. Chapter 12

December dragged on and on as though time itself was testing Peggy's sanity. She was constantly running over-warm or icy cold in the big house as she hobbled about restlessly, determined that she would keep at least some of her strength up, despite the havoc wreaked by the growing baby. Regina agreed that whatever exercise could be managed would be a good thing for both of them and Peggy was happy to comply with the prickly midwife. Every wisp of holiday tune on the radio made her miss Steve with an ache that often made the Bean restless in response, but as time wore on, everything and nothing seemed to make the Bean restless. She willingly and even eagerly participated in Hanukah both to engage with the lovely people who had embraced her like family, and because it helped drown out the loneliness of her more familiar Christian holiday. 

Christmas Eve she desperately wished could drink and cried herself to a restless sleep fraught with nightmares.

Christmas Day, she only left her bed for the absolute necessities and Anna was especially doting, bringing small meals and weak tea and slow, maternal strokes over dark hair that Peggy quietly relished. And with her deep empathy, Anna never spoke a word. She understood loss, the tug of a shattered homeland, of loved ones left behind, of senseless hatred and the devastation wrought in its name.

Peggy was so tired of tears, of feeling her control shattered by circumstance and the changes pressed upon her by the hard work of being haven for the child she already loved but was completely exasperated with.

In the dark of late evening, she heard the doorbell, waited with alert senses until she recognized Anna's footfalls outside of her door.

"Peggy, _Liebe_? Agent Sousa stopped by with a note."

As much as Peggy wanted to wallow in depressed solitude, Anna asked for so little that refusing to acknowledge her would be unspeakably petty. "I'm up, come in."

Like the concerned motherly role she had assumed over the younger woman, Anna came in on a streak of light from the hall, sitting on the edge of the bed to habitually stroke Peggy's forehead and crown. The paper was a handwritten thing on familiar yellow lined paper.

'Merry Christmas, Agent Carter,' it read. 'I wanted you to know that a radio transmission came though this evening from Colonel Chester Phillips. He wanted to wish you a good holiday and to tell you that the Howling Commandos miss you. 'Noisily missed you', were his exact words, as exasperated and amused as you think he sounded, yes. Told you to keep your chin up and stay warm. I wanted you to know that tonight of all nights. -Agent Sousa.'

Sniffling quietly, Peggy crumpled the paper up under her chin and pressed her nose into Anna's hip, soaking up the woman's comforting warmth, the only solace she had.

Come the morning after, the neighborhood was quiet and the light beyond bright and blinding. A peek through the curtains revealed fresh snow had fallen in the night, the pristine brightness of it just one more reminder that she was alone and isolated from her husband and team. She remembered the taste of blood and snow in her mouth, the agonizing burn of the bullets in her shoulder, the memories and cold making the scars ache miserably. Waddling about the gigantic house like a ghost, she made herself and her caretakers restless and anxious. The Bean seemed to press all the harder on her abused bladder, she was stuffed full and short of breath until she was dizzy, her heart working hard even when at rest.

It would be two more days before Regina told her she was nesting for sure and the time was imminent. Nothing was going to stop the child from arriving by New Years or the day after, tops.

Peggy didn't even get a chance to taunt Howard after that, for he was gone before the midwife finished speaking to him, out the door fast enough that Regina expected to see smoke in his wake. The coward. Torn between bone-deep exhaustion and a restless energy that made her jittery, Peggy did little more than eat, sleep, pace and haunt the loo. The descent into animal madness was terrifying and fascinating, biology soundly trumping her intelligence and self-control. The irrational dislike of the ground floor room converted into a proper little medical ward baffled her.

"I did want you to keep moving," Regina's dry comment made Peggy jump and nearly lose her ungainly balance, quickly assisted by the midwife. "But I'm hardly surprised you're prowling about like a half-tamed wildcat. Come on then, I'll keep you company for a bit."

Holding the other woman's arm actually made Peggy feel more secure, further assured by the easy quiet between them with no pressing need to fill the silence.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, yes, Regina here is indeed an homage to a beloved muse. Good guess.

Desperate for a distraction, Peggy blurted out," tell me something about you I don't know."

"There's very little about me you know even now."

Embarrassed by her utter lack of tact, Peggy clammed up, but Regina sighed affectionately and spoke up quietly. "My last name, Ross? It's German for 'horse'. Nothing strange there, except that my maiden name is Cavalo, which is Portuguese for horse. Daniel, my husband, and I found the coincidence hilarious. Particularly when one factors in that we met in a stable in Central Park. He was working there-- he manages the facility now-- and I was wandering through, looking to pet a nose or two. Magnificent animals, horses."

"I'm terrified you know."

Pursing her mouth in a scowl, Peggy reflected with a sigh at herself, that her ability to edit herself was getting tenuous. At least the important secrets seemed to be staying quiet in the depths of her hormone-soaked brain. Regina quirked an eyebrow, just the corner of her mouth curled into a faint smile.

"I would be stunned if you weren't, Peggy."

"It makes me feel so... so... weak."

Stopping, Regina shifted so that she faced her charge, the bulk of the baby between them, and put her hands on Peggy's shoulders. "Listen to me. You are not weak. You are anything but weak. You are understandably fearful of a momentous event and missing your absent husband. You are in the grips of something so much larger than yourself that it's quite intimidating, but the animal parts of you will know what to do and pretty soon you will be able to hold that child of yours. Now, chin up, you."

With that gentle tirade, Regina took up her post again, offering her arm as support. Sniffly and grateful, Peggy took it and they once more walked through the huge house.

"Thank you, Regina."

"My pleasure."

Just sitting around was the worst, the restlessness like an itch Peggy couldn't scratch. Certainly, the others did their best to occupy her, but it was a losing battle. Howard hadn't even come back so that she had someone to snarl at, the bastard. Regina had temporarily moved in and was every bit as stubborn as Peggy, butting heads with her over rest and eating and exercise. The time the American had put in to making herself comfortable in Peggy's space paid off as the time grew closer and stress sharper and ever more dangerous. Anna hovered then as well, a pillar of calm and familiarity that keep the worst of Peggy's poorly-hidden violence at bay. Still, both caretakers sported heavy bruising from Peggy gripping too hard as her discomfort grew.

Terror was no friend of Peggy's, too much of it weighing her down from a lifetime of learning to function beneath its dragging weight. As her normal coping mechanisms stutter-stepped or failed completely, she became more the she-wolf, restless and snappy. The shouts of Happy New Year grated her nerves, too many neighbors and strangers trying to be cheerful, despite the horrible snowstorm raging over the entirety of the northeast. And the crackle of fireworks, the distant booms, were just plain cruel. Peggy might have given in to the urge to duck and cover had she not been weighted down so effectively by her condition. Regina was extremely unhappy about the stress stark on her face, gritted teeth, the whites of her eyes plain, knuckles white where they clutched the blanket. The Jarvises were happy to join the two women in a small study tucked away as far from the outside walls as possible to minimize the noise and huddle around a warm fire. Only once Peggy had dozed off did the others do so, one remaining on watch through the long, cold night.

Peace reigned until morning, the windowless room dim and quiet... until Peggy woke with a snakelike hiss and kicked Anna hard enough to send the older woman sprawling off the couch. Grunting and cursing, she clutched at her great belly, seized by the wrenching spasm from pelvis to chest that wracked her. With a glance that Edwin was checking on his startled wife, Regina went to her charge, unsurprised by the crushing grin on her hand.

"Just hang in there, Peggy. I do believe your little one is ready to make their appearance."

Catching her breath, Peggy knew the midwife was right. Something had changed while she had slept. There was a cramping sense of urgency in brain and body, something she could no more control than the bombs that rained down on London, so far away.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return of an old, well-loved running gag.

Thus began the most surreal New Years Day of Peggy Carter's life.

A long proponent of keeping a healthy mother and child active, Regina got her up and moving at a shuffle, the contractions far enough apart to be a shock every time. Like waves on the shore, they hit and rippled with liquid pain and enough of an endorphin high to make Peggy fear for her sanity. It felt like being pried open slowly, an inexorable agony, her whole body become a fist, clenching and unclenching.

She'd lost track of time and her place in the world when suddenly, there was a great, cooling wave of relief that brought her blinking back to herself somewhat. Satisfied, Regina stood up, sheathing the hypodermic needle into its protective wrap. "Better? I know you're not thrilled with the morphine, but you just punched Edwin as he was too traumatized to get the hell out of the way."

The burble of laughter surprised Peggy, loosening the choking knot of stress in her throat. The next clench of contraction was blunted, the sensation slightly disjointed from her immediate experience. 

"Oh... is he... all right?"

"He will be," Anna announced as she bustled in, weighted down with a towel and buckets. "He's manning the radio now to keep him busy. You just concentrate on our new family member now, _Liebe_."

It took a moment for Peggy to register what the woman had said, nearly losing the thought again at the next contraction. Anna's eyes barely tightened at the harsh grip on her upper arm as she leaned over to wipe a warm, damp towel over Peggy's face. With a kinder, more gentle grip, Peggy squeezed Anna's forearm, "Thank you for being here. For everything, Anna. For you and Edwin both. Been so alone and you've helped so much."

"Oh, sweet girl, we love you too. You focus now and know that we aren't going anywhere."

And so nature carried on, the whole of Peggy's body and soul dedicated to the task; clench, hold, push, breathe, rest, repeat. Through it all, the river of pain, of inevitability, of the ache of loneliness ever present.

Steve should be here for this, to welcome his first born, to hold her or him, to fulfill the promise of the tattered piece of nylon string on her finger, the tin ring around her neck.

Tears rained down amid the pain, the animal pressure of birth, the stream of cussing and the cries that would be screaming if not for Peggy's gone hoarse hours ago.

It snowed and grew chilly outside the room, she noticed when hobbling about to keep her muscles loose, her circulation strong. Like a running adrenaline rush, her heart pounded, pounded like bombs, like marching footsteps, like time itself had a voice thundering in her ears. Like the pounding of the distant front door that struck instinctual fear in her soul. No one was supposed to be here in this safe haven, a surprise couldn't be a good thing, sent her most base instincts into violent overdrive. But she could do nothing, helpless with the overpowering reality of birth.

"Crowning," Regina spoke, an oasis of calm. "You're doing great, Peggy."

There was a babble of raised voices, urgent... and familiar?

With a thunderous crash, the doors to the cozy little study burst open to reveal an apparition, a figment of her imagination, a fever dream.

"Peggy!"

"Steve..."

Stripping off his gloves, he shouldered past her caretakers, as outraged and startled silent as Edwin in the doorway. Only the touch of those big, warm hands, the press of his lips, the filthy stiffness to his wrecked hair, convinced her that he was real. The magic and romance of the moment, such as it was, dovetailed roughly into more contractions, coming faster and harder now.

"Sorry I'm late," he murmured and Peggy's strangled bark of laughter rang out amid the chaos.


	15. Chapter 15

Horrified by his wife's condition, Steve barely registered the presence of the other people in the room, the British guy who he nearly mowed down at the door as he was about to rip the thing clean off its hinges and the two hovering women, none too happy with him. When he looked helplessly at them, the brunette rolled her eyes in absolute disgust. "Get some of those layers off, mister, so we can get some of the filth off. Honestly. Anna, dear, could you bring me a few towels soaked in hot water? I'll need to mop off this mongrel to keep any sort of hygiene in this room. Bad enough the clinic was rendered useless and lord knows where the medical staff is in this storm."

"It's pounding down snow out there," Steve muttered, torn between wanting to be close to a half-delirious Peggy and being far too aware of just how grubby he really was. "I'd've never gotten here at all without a parachute."

Peggy laughed, the sound strangling off into a harsh groan, while the other three just stared.

In relatively short order, the attendants had stripped Steve to his waist and made him yelp with shock at the hot towels tossed over his head and arms. Roughly scrubbing his skin and hair, he was in much better condition to be supportive, the bossy brunette ordering him about, clearly the one in charge. He relished the punishing grip Peggy got into his hair, around his big hand, wanting so much to take some of the agony from her, helpless in the face of it.

"You're doing great, Peggy," the midwife soothed, and Steve checked her expression for a moment to reassure himself.

"Hear that, Doll? You're doin' great."

"Steve... I..."

Whatever she wanted to say was getting garbled, dark eyes cloudy and not entirely present. Frankly, Steve was scared to death, but he did his damnest to stay calm, to give her something to anchor to. Nervously, he found himself babbling. "Howard managed to track us down, y'know. He had to have had Phillips' help to do it and I still don't know how he landed or took off again, the reckless bastard, but I'd never been so happy to see him. The guys all wanted to come along, but they agreed that only Bucky should come meet the Bean. The storm is bad enough that half the city's out and visibility is worse than that storm in Poland. Remember it? I can't believe none of us got lost. I dunno who's gonna be madder at me when they finally get here, Howard or Bucky. They were up wrestling with the controls and I just sorta bailed out on 'em."

Glassy and exhausted, Peggy's gaze was riveted to his face, her expression twisting with the contractions he could see rattle her out of the corner of his eye.

"Almost there, keep talking."

Wracking his exhausted, worried mind, Steve said whatever fool thing popped in there. "Guess we'll have to figure out a name, huh? Or have you done that already? Depends on if we've got a girl or a boy, huh? We could use a family name, or we can just pick something we like, y'know? Son or daughter, they'll be good lookin' and graceful like you, with your beautiful eyes and dark hair, 'cause who wants to look at my sorry mug in miniature, right?"

Panting too hard to speak, the convulsive squeezes around his hand took on familiar meaning, the letters garbled by the contractions still raging.

"I love you too," Steve whispered, kissing her forehead and blinking away tears. "So much."

While the storm outside raged, the one inside drew to its natural conclusion. With a strangled, animal cry that would haunt Steve, at last Peggy's strong frame delivered the child she had so diligently carried to term. In Regina's competent hands, the baby squirmed and after a breathless moment, wailed powerfully into the suddenly quiet room. A fear Steve hadn't even acknowledged he'd been carrying around eased at the healthy sound. At least the weak lungs that had once plagued him had not been passed on.

"You did great," he praised, having no idea what to say, the two of them left alone for a moment while the others fussed over the baby.

"You're late," Peggy breathed out, swallowing hard against the dryness of her throat as aftershocks rattled her taxed body. Steve grinned as she peeled her aching fingers out of his hair and ran her fingertips over his handsome face. Feeling the rasp of the now-worn nylon string against his skin, Steve mouthed at it, earning a delirious quirk of smile. "Did you really parachute in?"

His watery laughter filled the space between them.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last!

As the delirious high of pain and endorphins began to ebb just a bit, Peggy was aware of being mopped off, of a peculiar sense of emptiness, of a soul-ache that had nothing to do with physical pain but...

Anna appeared at Steve's shoulder, cradling a swaddled bundle that neither of them could take their eyes off of. 

"Meet your daughter."

Her cries had thinned to irritable fussing, outraged at what she had been put through. Tiny fists waved weakly, her little face squinched up and smeared with waxy birthing fluids not easily removed. She was the most beautiful thing either of them had ever seen. Peggy actually startled when Anna carefully set the newcomer down with her tiny head over her mother's slowly calming heart.

"Wow," Steve breathed, his hand huge where it hovered over the baby's small shape. Calmed by the familiar heartbeat she'd been torn away from, the child stilled, tiny hands flexing like a kitten against Peggy's skin.

"Oh... Steve... she's..."

"Yeah."

Neither of them paid attention to Regina and Anna moving about, checking Peggy's blood pressure, cleaning up the mess of birth, stoking up the fire. Abruptly Peggy noticed where she was and how dim it was in the room.

"Is there something wrong with the lights?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, no. Whole neighborhood's dark from the storm."

"Oh, that would explain why we never made it to Howard's infirmary. He'll be so disappointed it went to waste."

"Can't say I'm sorry about that."

They were both hyper-aware and yet nearly oblivious of one another, transfixed by the new life cuddled between their bare skins.


	17. Chapter 17

"I really do hate to interrupt," Regina broke in with a soft voice, unsurprised that it took the new parents a moment to lift their gazes to hers. "But mother and child need some rest and, no offence, Captain, but you need a bath. I insist as it will be more hygienic to the environment and Edwin looks like he's about to go into hysterics at the condition of clothing you've dragged in with you."

Snorting with inelegant humor and more than a little high from her ordeal and the lingering morphine, Peggy kissed Steve sloppily and gave him a shove.

"We'll be here, darling. Go on."

"Love you, Pegs. Both of you."

"Love you too. Both of you."

More asleep than awake, Peggy drifted in a muzzy haze, only distantly aware of the movement around her, caught up in the warm, living weight of her first born cuddled close.

Steve for his part, reluctantly followed the British guy to a bedroom with a fancy bathroom and threw himself into a hot shower to scrub up, quick and rough. No matter that he couldn't have been more than a few minutes, his pants and boots were gone, leaving the big man to quickly towel off before wrapping the material around his hips. For lack of a better idea, Steve rifled the bedding off of the bed in the next room, tying the top sheet securely around his hips and draping a blanket over his shoulders even as his minder returned.

"Oh," said the British guy. Jarvis? Was that what Howard said his name was? Everything was a bit muddy in Steve's brain. "I'm afraid we've no clothing for a man of you… stature, Captain."

"I'm good for now."

"If you would be kind enough to lend me a hand, Missus Ross has insisted that Peggy remain in the study where it's warm. I believe that dragging in a mattress will encourage better rest."

"Yeah, that's a great idea, I'll get it."

It was a good mattress, solid and heavy with wool and sturdy springs. Jarvis blinked in surprise that Steve could manhandle the thing with seemingly no effort at all. The study turned birthing room had been cleared of a few pieces of its furniture, the rest pushed away as best they could manage. Steve gave his girls a longing look, but obeyed orders to set the mattress near the warm fire. While the others fussed over bedding, he went to his loved ones, trying not to startle Peggy. He needn't have worried, one dark eye peeking open and her beautiful mouth curling in a smile.

"I should have insisted on joining you, Darling."

"No offense, ma'am," he teased lovingly, "but your legs wouldn't hold you up right about now."

"There is that."


	18. Chapter 18

Carefully wriggling his arms beneath his wife's limp mass, Steve stood up effortlessly, cradling his girls to his bare chest. "Think we could shift that mattress so that I can lean up against that big desk? I'm not letting up my hold for a good, long while."

While it may have been phrased as a request, there was no question in his voice. Regina wasn't pleased, but knowing who he was, it wasn't as though he would drop either of them or something equally as heinous. So the mattress was quickly moved and armloads of bedding shifted to accommodate Steve kneeling carefully to sprawl back with knees raised to cradle his family close. It seemed to set the baby off from merely fussing and little snuffled noises to a full-fledged wail. Regina chuckled at the startled and alarmed looks from the new parents.

"She's hungry. Birthing is hard work on both of you. Give it a try and I'll coach should you need me."

With a bit of graceless maneuvering the baby was entirely unhappy about, the midwife got her settled and snuggled in to figure out how to suckle. After a couple of amusing false starts, she started getting the hang of it, immediately setting her whole little self to the task.

"What a… umm… fascinating sensation," Peggy murmured, her expression halfway between doting and embarrassed. It deepened when Regina discretely broke into the reverie to gently tuck up a lump of towels between her legs before draping a towel over her shoulders where the flickering fire did not shine.

"Rest when you can, dears. You'll need it."

With a maternal stroke over Peggy's head, Regina retreated to curl up on the ruined couch, currently swathed in more towels.

"She's good at this," Steve marveled as he carefully ran a finger over his daughter's dark, downy head.

"Of course she is, Darling. She comes from excellent stock."

The sleepy curl of smile warmed Steve to the deepest parts of himself, the loose sprawl of absolute trust against him bringing tears to his eyes. It was really starting to sink in now, the presence of his baby daughter, of holding his beloved wife after far too long being away. Frankly, he hardly wanted to blink, afraid to miss a moment of this bliss.

"Yeah, she does."

An uncomfortable twitch along Peggy's body had Regina kneeling beside them in a flash, completely halting Steve's panic in its tracks. "Time to switch. Come on then, little one."

Oh, she was not happy to be moved, tiny limbs shaking and flailing weakly, cries as outraged as a cornered animal.

"Feisty," Regina admired with a grin, resettling the tiny body and showing the new parents how to help her get back to suckling.

"Ouch!" Peggy yelped and Regina immediately fussed over the baby for a moment.

"Is that better?"

"Yes, actually, it is."

"Just pop her off and let her try again if the suckling is uncomfortable. You'll all get better at this with practice."


	19. Chapter 19

Only half-asleep, Steve startled to full wakefulness when Peggy's murmuring suddenly became a shout. Ignoring the sharp punch from a random flail in his direction, he shifted to lightly restrain her movements, not wanting the baby to wake.

"Shh, Doll, I'm here," he murmured sweetly, smoothing a hand over her skin. "Hey, Peggy, it's me. C'mon, sweetheart, open your gorgeous eyes."

Quieting, Peggy slowly blinked awake, staring muzzily at him, "Steve..."

Smiling warmly, he continued to touch her, avoiding the softened belly, her breasts all the heavier from pregnancy and leaking in anticipation of the baby waking. In sync, they looked down at the tiny body still cradled high on Peggy's chest with her tiny feet pressed against her father.

"I can hear her breathing," Steve whispered, still awed at the tiny life finally theirs to hold and adore. "She sounds so... peaceful."

"Ugh, I need a loo and I'm ravenous," Peggy whined and once again, Regina appeared seemingly from nowhere.

"That's my cue. Pops, if you'll keep an eye on your youngling? Just cradle her head and torso gently and you'll be fine. We'll be right back."

With much growling and cursing, Peggy was hoisted upright after Steve scooped his daughter up in one big hand, her torso draped down his forearm. Much as he wanted to fuss over Peggy, this was every bit as important. Once the women had shuffled away, he leaned forward, resting his forearms against his thighs to cradle her smallness there, completely content to just admire for a good, long time. Only when she seemed inclined to start stirring did he find his voice.

"Hi there, sweetheart," he said quietly, thrilled when her eyes cracked up just a tiny bit in response. "I know you don't really know me, but I hope we can get to know each other a little bit, huh?"

Jerky and uncoordinated, she flailed a bit, noises small and primitive. It was near impossible to see anything distinctive in her pinched little face, but Steve had high hopes her looks would match the shock of fine, dark hair.

"I really hope you look like your mother. I bet you will too. Her coloring is much more interesting than mine and she has the most beautiful smile." Swallowing hard, he blinked tears away and spoke even more softly. "I'm so glad you seem healthy, baby girl. I worried y'know, because lord knows I wasn't. Another reason I'm glad you favor your mom."

Leaning close, he pressed a soft kiss to her silky face, breathing in the scent of her and just enjoying the moment.

"Glad I made it."

"So are we," Peggy murmured as she hobbled back in, hanging onto Regina's arm and clutching the blanket around herself. "That was one of the less pleasant experiences of my life. Might I collapse all over you?"

"Any time, babe."


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets to enjoy the presence of his girls. Let the 'AWWWWW'ing ensue.

Regina had gotten Peggy into some soft pajama pants for warmth and comfort, but she had refused the shirt, chuckling as she reenacted her telling the midwife that she would be undoing the useless thing anyway. "Really, the only person in this house to be scandalized by these ridiculous things will be Edwin," she rambled on in a punch-drunk fashion that Steve found impossibly endearing. "As if I weren't annoyingly well-endowed before. Now? I couldn't cradle one in both hands. And they're sensitive, Steve. Almost painfully so. They have been for weeks. It's irritating and a bit fascinating."

As though she suddenly realized she was prattling on, Peggy settled more comfortably into Steve's supporting body, stroking the baby where he still cradled her in one hand.

"It was worth it all, little girl." Nuzzling under Steve's chin, she tugged at his hand to bring the baby closer. "Let's see if we can't figure this out, hmm?"

Fascinated by the process, Steve helped as best he could, shifting the Bean's limp little weight into position, his hand happily trapped beneath her as mother and daughter fiddled with the business of nursing until everyone was settled. With a soft humming sound, Peggy again snuggled her face into his throat to press little kisses to his skin. Caught between his wife's sensual nuzzling and watching his infant daughter utterly peaceful at the breast, Steve was blissfully trapped in a moment he would always treasure.

"You're bristly," Peggy suddenly giggled, tearing his gaze away from the baby, his head tilting to smile down at her happy face.

"You and the Bean were a bit more important than a shave, Doll."

"I like it."

"Really?"

"Mmmm, yes. I don't know that I've ever touched you more than a bit sandpapery. It's sexy."

Amused and sweetly aroused by this utterly unguarded version of his wife, Steve grinned with a bit a dirty edge that deepened her smile as well. "Well, it grows in obnoxiously slow, even now. And a guy likes to look his best for his girl, right?"

"Oh, hardly, you ruffian," she teased back, still stroking his face. "The condition you arrived in. Really, Steven."

They were still chuckling when he shifted to press his lips to hers, nuzzling playfully at her smile, unrushed and undemanding. He wanted to convey all the things he had trouble putting words to, how he loved her for so many things. Caressing his lips over hers, he brought a hand up to cradle her head just as his other was doing with their beautiful child, utterly uncaring that she needed a good scrubbing. "I love kissing you," he murmured, nibbling at the curve of her upper lip, looking through hooded eyes at her relaxed, open face. "No one will ever mean to me what you do, Peggy. Not ever. 'Cept maybe junior here, but that's different."

Her smile bloomed again and he happily, gently chased the changing shape of her mouth, fit his lips to hers, playfully licking at her teeth, teasing her own tongue, drinking up the soft moan, the faint stir of lazy restlessness in her body. In her, time fell away, responsibilities, the room around them. It was only the two of them and as much forever as they would be allowed.

Only the baby's twitching broke Steve away from the bliss of Peggy's mouth, licking at her upper lip and breathing in her quiet moan.

"Oh, if I didn't feel rather pummeled, you bad man you..."

"Mmmmm, yeah," he murmured throatily, unable to resist ducking down to nibble at her throat and shoulder, licking away the musky saltiness of her skin.

"How can you possibly find all of this," her fingers made some weird gesture against his scalp where they clenched his hair. "Even a bit sexy?"

"You're messing with me, right? Christ Pegs, I adore you caked in mud or togged to the bricks, living fancy or in a cardboard box under a fuckin' bridge. Always will. Love you so much."

In lieu of words, she merely curled her arms around him and the Bean, their heartbeats soothing him as much as the Morse Code of 'I love you' scratched out lightly against his scalp.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the Bean gets to meet her uncles.

A racket of sound from outside their cozy little room woke Steve and he was instantly on alert, every muscle tensed. Only a moment behind his reflex, Peggy was just as alerted, unconsciously drawing the baby closer so that she stirred and fussed with a kittenish sound. Just as quickly, Steve relaxed.

"It's Howard and Bucky. You up for a little bit of company?"

"Good lord, _no_. But a bath sounds heavenly. Go take your daughter to meet her uncles and I'll toddle off and meet you in the bath. Just send in Regina or Anna, as apparently we've actually been left alone for a bit."

"Really? You want me take her?"

Grinning at his wondering, boyish tone, Peggy gave him a quick, hard kiss. "Darling, I may have done the hard work, but she's your daughter too. You've as much to learn as I. Hold her carefully and keep her warm and you should be fine. Holler for Regina if you've any questions. Lord knows I will be for a bit."

With a final smooch, Steve slithered out from beneath his girls and stretched like a cat before redoing his ridiculous sarong and grabbing the blanket Regina had been using earlier. Thusly prepared, he crouched to carefully gather the baby to his strong chest to be swaddled up.

"There you go. You look like a natural, my darling."

Stroking his wife's dark hair, Steve stood and headed out, moving carefully with his precious burden. "I'll send in one of the women soon as I spot one, okay?'

"Excellent. See you in a tick, love."

Opening the door brought in a rush of cool air and raised voices.

"... everything went okay? They're... Steve!"

With all the frazzled energy of a loyal dog too long separated from his master, Howard bounded over, eyes as wild as his utterly disheveled countenance. Bucky was only a moment behind, as he'd been hanging back while Howard had clearly been haranguing poor Edwin.

A raised hand stopped both uncles in their tracks and Steve smiled luminously. "Hey fellas, meet the Bean."

Tentatively, they inched closer, faces open with awe and trepidation, even Edwin.

"Tiny lil' thing," Bucky muttered for lack of anything intelligent to say, but his eyes were wondrous.

"Isn't she beautiful?"

"A girl, huh? Gonna be handful."

"I'm looking forward to it. Glad you guys got down okay. Did the plane survive?"

It took a moment for Howard to blink away from staring at the tiny bundle cuddled close to her father's broad chest. "The plane? Oh right, the plane. It's a little bent up, but it was worth it. We were on fumes anyway. Is Peggy doing okay?"

"Seems like it, yeah. Now say hi so I get her to a warmer spot."


	22. Chapter 22

"What are we going to name her?"

Half dozed off in the warmth of the bath and with a couple of oil lamps at full blast nearby to take the chill out of the air and provide light, Steve stirred and rubbed his face to wake himself up. "Yeah, we never discussed that, huh?"

"There always seemed other things on our minds." Peggy's voice was teasing, but they both felt the constant tug of separation keenly. "What was your mother's name, Darling?"

"Sarah."

"That's a lovely name."

"I agree. Yours?"

"Amanda."

"Hmm, tough call. They're both nice names."

They both found themselves looking over at the sturdy basket where the baby lay warmly swaddled and sleeping quietly for the moment. 

"Well, we're certainly not going to name her Harrison," Peggy abruptly sassed, just to fill the pensive quiet and Steve chuckled and resettled his grip to cradle her even closer. 

"I dunno, Harry has a certain ring to it."

"Oh, stop it, you."

When their soft, mingled laughter settled, Peggy spoke up again, her voice quiet and a bit distant. "Did I ever tell you that I look nothing like my father?"

"No. Do tell."

"He was your typical pasty Englishman, mother only a bit darker than that. My brother looked like them, but not I. One would hardly know we were related. I never knew where my coloring came from, but I always wondered. I've always wished I could have asked."

"I miss mine too, sweetheart. Even never knowin' my dad."

Their quiet was thick for long moments for the grandparents the child would never know.

"My grandparents took care of me for years. They gave me a better chance through the depression than I would have had nearly anywhere else. They weren't demonstrative, but they were doting in their own way, good teachers, dignified and knowledgeable. Grandmother in particular, the sharp-eyed old warhorse."

The adoration in Peggy's voice was obvious and Steve kissed her head. "What's her name, darlin'?"

"Grace."

"I like it. Bodes well that she'll grow up to be just that, graceful. I already know she's gonna be smart and kind and gorgeous like her mom. I think our mothers would approve."

Sniffling, Peggy squeezed him as best she could and nodded. "Grace it is then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit that originally chose the name Grace out of whimsy and too many watchings of Miss Congeniality. In my head, grown up Grace started looking like Sandra Bullock and it stuck. But I was unsatisfied with Peggy and Steve being whimsical over something so important and the grandparents who became Peggy's surrogate parents came to mind. Grandmother Grace is Dame Maggie Smith, and she was the primary shaper of Peggy's adult personality.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betcha thought I'd forgotten the tornado story, huh?

Everyone had loved the name, the quiet celebration interrupted when the doctor had finally managed to get to the house. The guy was frazzled, but did a thorough exam of mother and daughter to find both in good condition.

"I could have told you that," Regina scoffed where his ears couldn't hear and the others stifled laughter. Steve had quickly decided he liked her dry humor and matter-of-fact care of his girls. Far as he was concerned, the longer she wanted to stick around, the better. 

Because he wasn't going to be able to.

The war still raged, Red Skull was still on the loose and the master plan they had yet to track down was still out there somewhere. Keenly torn by love and duty, Steve retreated from the after dinner chatting to find his girls resting on the couch in the living room. The power had been restored and things were much more comfortable with the furnace humming away in some distant corner of the huge house.

"Do you hear that, my little Grace? That would be your father. He's heavy but moves so very quietly. Shall we try for a smile? Hmmm?"

"Got room for a big meathead to cuddle up?"

Grinning up at her husband, Peggy pretended to think it over. "Oh, if we must."

"Smartass."

In a flurry of careful movement, Steve once again cradled their combined weight across his thighs and torso, a sensation he would never grow tired of. Peggy pressed kisses to his jaw, ending in a long, hot smooch only interrupted with Bucky's immature gagging noise.

"Shut up, ya jerk," Steve murmured against Peggy's lips, both of them smiling.

"Make me, punk," Bucky sassed back and danced away from the halfhearted flail of one big hand in his general direction. Naturally the others gravitated to the newborn and the big fireplace blazing away happily close by.

"So, tell us the tornado story."

The comment was so out of context that the married couple only blinked at a smirking Bucky where he'd settled to the ottoman. Howard lit up with excitement at the suggestion.

"Hey, I've heard about these! Come on, Pegs, it'll be Gracie's first story."

"I suppose you have a point. Hmmm," she hummed thoughtfully, smoothing a hand over the baby's torso where she lay quietly watching her parents with unfocused eyes. "How about we change the venue, my darling? A story about the English countryside seems out of place here. Alright, here we go. Like this winter, there had been a terrible storm during the winter of ninety-twenty," her voice dropped for a moment to its usual mumbling over the actual year and Buck and Steve both smiled widely at the familiarity. "At first it seemed like any other storm, a chilly blizzard of snow and ice. Then there came rumors of all the ridiculous things, a tornado. Can you believe that? Well New York certainly didn't and all the people went about their business with no idea what outlandish fate was bearing down on them."

While Regina and the Jarvises were puzzled, they remained silent with the others, listening to Peggy's rich voice speak quietly to her daughter, her tone warm and intimate.

"The impossible twister tore down from the frozen north, ripping up fields of carrots left in the earth to sweeten over winter, through a millinery factory, over a coal train and right down into the city itself, where it swept through Central Park and tore all the branches from the trees before bearing down on the stunned people. They were still quite certain they were imagining the whole thing, you see. By the time the tornado had finished sweeping through the streets, all the stunned people had been turned to snowmen, complete with carrot noses, coal eyes, stick arms and even proper top hats."

Steve stifled his laughter to soft huffs, marveling at Grace grabbing tightly to his pinky and Peggy's ring finger to jerk at them. She might not have the muscle mastery for a smile, but somehow her delight was clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am woefully behind on this epic due to a rough summer, the Marvel Big Bang and angst avoidance, but stay alert and I promise that there is much more to this tale, dear readers.


End file.
